Only Waiting
by AlyCat20
Summary: (INFINITY WAR SPOILERS) The war against the Mad Titan has finally been won. The ones lost to the Snap were returned, and the universe was restored. All seemed well, except for the weary Thor, who had still lost so much. His world would never be the same, and all he could do was mourn at last... and wait. One-shot.


**Author's Note: ~INFINITY WAR SPOILERS~ I told myself that I wouldn't do this. After seeing Infinity War, my brain told me to not write anything relating those first five minutes that emotionally traumatized and killed me. So I agreed, and I started to read what others wrote. But then, my heart couldn't take it anymore. The idea for this story was already stuck in my head, and it wouldn't leave. And as much as I don't want to believe that he's really dead, I want him to have a proper sendoff that's maybe something like this if he doesn't return. I hope you enjoy it. Or you can cry. Either reaction works, really.**

 **I do not own Marvel or its properties, and I thank Stan Lee and his associates for their stories. But I do own the plot of this story, and I own it proudly. Beta read by my friend V.**

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The late afternoon sky was unmistakably clear. Only two ravens who sorrowfully called out to each other penetrated the blue expanse, soaring high above the gently swaying grass of the tranquil cliffside. The birds then flew out in the direction of the turbulent ocean and soon disappeared from view. This scenery of nature remained undisturbed, save for one figure who trudged through the field towards a large rock to rest upon.

As he walked, the man's crimson cape gently billowed behind him. His scuffed and scraped body and armor revealed the ferocity of the battles he had recently fought. He took a seat on the familiar old rock and took in a deep breath of the fresh sea air. A slight breeze ruffled his short hazel-golden hair, almost as if the wind was trying to play with it. Absentmindedly, he picked out a small tuft of grass by his feet and held it out in his open palm. He stared as the wind swept the green pieces away and out towards the ocean's horizon. Someone had told him to remember this place, and this place did somewhat comfort him. He then let himself have a moment to think.

He was a king, and he felt exhausted. There were his people to lead, yes, but after everything that had transpired, his comrades allowed him to have this brief time alone to rest. At last, they had defeated the mad Titan who had brought his judgement upon the universe. Trillions had suffered from the tragedy as they watched their loved ones fade away, or maybe they were the ones who were taken. But the king alongside his ensemble of heroes eventually prevailed, and they restored what had been lost to that fateful moment when the cruel fingers snapped. The ones who were stolen away had returned, and all was well.

But was it, really?

The weary but young king turned his gaze downward to the bare spot next to him on the stone. He brushed his fingers along its cool surface, reminiscing over how much more peaceful things used to be before all hell broke loose in his life. Some time ago, he sat here with others. In the middle sat his father, and on the other side his brother. But now he sat alone, for both were torn from his grasp without mercy. He had to watch helplessly as the Titan, full of malice, forced the life out of his little brother that he had sworn to protect, as king and as his only remaining family. Yet he had failed. Not even the heroes' victory could bring him back. No resurrections. He would never again get the chance to have a conversation with him, argue or banter with him like all siblings do, or even give him the hug and the thank you that he probably needed for far too long. Never again.

Maybe, one day, they would meet once more. Some day, when the time comes for this king to arrive at the halls of Valhalla, he will be greeted by the great warriors and leaders who fell before him. He knew he would see familiar faces, his friends, his parents. But would his brother be standing at the gates as well, waiting to reunite with him? He didn't know. He didn't know what he would feel, what he would say or do, should he not find his brother among the others. It only scared him now, for he feared it just might come true.

His lip began to quiver, so he bit down on it and turned back towards the silvery sea. He could feel the thunderclouds slowly forming behind him, but he fought to hold them at bay. He didn't want to disrupt the serene image in front of him. The sun had begun to set, and its warm beams sparkled all over the waves and gave a soft golden tint to the dimming sky. It felt so tender and welcoming, something that he hadn't felt in a while. He tried to relax in its embrace, and he waited.

What he was waiting for, he was not sure.

But he waited, nonetheless, for something that he figured would never come. Maybe he wanted to find peace, or restitution. He didn't even know anymore. There was nothing that could be done about everything he lost in just the past few years. His world, his life was as good as gone forever. He appeared so strong to others, but in reality, he was broken. So much had been stolen from him in such little time, and he couldn't even afford the luxury to mourn properly. He was just thrown into the next situation, and even when he succeeded, he always lost something else.

But now, he sat alone, free to think. Free to let everything out, free to mourn at last. He finally allowed the full weight of his struggles to bear down upon him. The sun in front of him turned into a glowing haze as his vision clouded with hot tears. They silently rolled down his dirt-stained cheeks, making smooth tracks as they fell. He clenched his fists as quiet sobs racked his body. He found himself in the pit of utter despair, where for the first time he sat uninterrupted.

Then, invisible to the king, a mystical form began to manifest at his side. It soon grew more detailed and came into focus as the figure of a slightly younger man. His dark hair fell over his shoulder as he turned to stare at the weeping king. Viridian eyes glistening with traces of melancholy sympathy, he carefully reached out and placed a ghostly hand on the larger man's shaking shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

The king's sobs soon grew hushed as he felt the sudden sensation on his shoulder. It felt indescribable, this surreal feeling, like it was warm and cool at the same time. He looked to his right and yet saw nothing, no one there. But he could feel his presence. He could tell he was there, because that's how strong their family bond was. That's why it pained him so much.

But he smiled anyway, a smile tinged with sadness and longing. But still a smile. Eventually, he shifted his gaze back to the disappearing sun, as did his brother. They sat and watched the sky become darker with an orange hue still hanging at its edges, and the first stars began to peek out and shimmer to life. The sun's final rays still managed to illuminate the meadow, its light shining upon the brothers. Finally content, the king let out a soft sigh. This is indeed what he had waited for. What he had been promised by the one beside him was fulfilled. This was all he could wish for now.

How curious it was, that the only one who could calm the storm in his heart was the brother who thrived in its chaos.

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 **Author's Note: I had originally thought of this story as a single image of the two sitting next to each other, bathed in the sunlight. But since I can't draw well enough to make that happen, I decided to write about it instead. However, I would appreciate it if someone could draw it and tell me, or notify me if there's already a drawing like that. Another thing I would appreciate are some reviews, just to see how well I did. I really do love to read them, and it encourages me to write more and become more skilled. Thanks for reading, and may we all survive these coming days until Avengers 4.**

 **The sun will shine upon us again.**


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